A/N: They said to go out with a bang, so here I am 8000+ words later. Featuring the Beifongs, the air kids, and, as usual, a large dose of fluff. Also, pining (so much pining).
"So tell me the secret
Is there a way into your heart?
'Cause I want to believe it
Oh will I be wishing
Until the last falling star?"
"Coming through."
Jinora shifted sideways, Kai's shoulder brushing hers as he set down a box marked, in neat black letters, College. The back end of the car sagged a little under the new weight, especially with the way Kai had unceremoniously deposited the load, and the cardboard made a rough sound as Jinora took over, pushing her belongings farther back into the trunk.
"That's the last of it, I think," Kai said, standing beside her.
"It is," nodded Jinora, going through a quick checklist in her head. She flashed him an apologetic smile. "Thanks, by the way. I can't believe my mom roped you into helping."
Kai shrugged. "Not a problem. Gotta make myself useful, right?" He stepped back to give her room to close the trunk, and when Jinora turned back around, something twisted in her chest as she took stock of the new distance between them.
It went away in a flash, though, because Kai moved forward again, hands shoved in his pockets, the ratty shoelace of his left shoe trailing across her driveway. "So."
"So," Jinora parroted back, crossing her arms and looking up at him.
"So," Kai started again, shooting her a look that warned, no interrupting, "I have something. For you."
He pulled the gift from his back pocket so smoothly that Jinora didn't have time to register what it was until he had tapped her on the head with it, the sound of pages slapping together making her grin. Jinora reached up, hands closing around a notebook.
"It's not much, but—"
"Oh, hush," said Jinora, covering Kai's mouth with one hand while she held her gift with the other. "Number one rule about giving someone a present: don't insult it immediately afterwards."
She studied the notebook's cover carefully, trying not to think too much about the fact that Kai's mouth was right under her hand. The design had been rendered lovingly in black ink, and Jinora recognized it immediately because she'd spent the better part of the last few months staring at it in the picture pinned to the corkboard above her desk. Her college—it still felt strange, saying that—the first building she'd fallen in love with, from its curved steps to the row of white arches on either side, and Kai had captured it perfectly in his sketch, down to the stone lettering right above the doors.
"Kai," said Jinora, clutching the book to herself with both hands and staring at him gratefully. "It's beautiful."
Kai rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing. "I figured with college and all, you'll be off on your own adventures. And that, you know, you might like to write them down."
Jinora riffled through the pages, a smile overtaking her face as she noticed they were all lined. It seemed like a small detail, but she knew that it meant that Kai had gone out and bought a new notebook especially for her; Kai worked strictly on blank paper, to ensure that no other lines competed with the ones in his head.
And suddenly there was a lump in her throat, because she would miss this: the careful scrutiny of Kai's eyes. The silver piercing in his left ear. The way his green t-shirt stretched across his shoulders and the way she knew that if she stepped forward and hugged him right now, he would hug her back—tightly but gently—and that scared her.
It scared her because she was headed halfway across the country, and Kai wasn't.
The sound of a door opening and closing jolted Jinora from her thoughts. Within seconds, Meelo and Rohan's pattering feet could be heard as they raced toward the car.
"Dad says to get ready to go!" called Meelo as he yanked the door open, tumbling into the backseat. Rohan clambered up behind him, pausing to wave, "Hi, Kai."
"Hey," greeted Kai.
Ikki emerged a short while later, headphones over her ears and phone in hand. She acknowledged Kai with a nod and directed a raised eyebrow toward Jinora before piling into the van as well.
"Looks like the Gyatso-mobile is getting ready to go, huh?" commented Kai.
"Yeah," said Jinora. As Kai started to move away, she grabbed his hand; he stilled, looking at her, a little confused but patient all the same. "I'll be back for winter break, okay? So don't forget me or anything."
The corner of Kai's mouth lifted. "Yeah, okay."
"Jinora!" Her mother was calling, now, her head sticking out of the car window. Meanwhile, their garage door rumbled as it started to lower. "You ready to go?"
"In a minute," Jinora called back, her eyes not leaving Kai. "And we'll text each other. Promise?"
"All right, all right," said Kai, grinning, now.
"Right." Jinora squeezed his hand, satisfied, before realizing what she had done. Awkwardly, she tried to release her grip, but Kai only rolled his eyes and tugged her forward, sweeping her into a hug in one fluid motion.
He was warm, and the cloth of his shirt was soft against her cheek, and Jinora closed her eyes, breathing him in: grass and maybe a little bit of grease but mostly a whole lot of boy. And it wasn't like—this wasn't the first time they'd hugged. But Jinora was distinctly aware through it all that maybe, in another time or place, this could be the start of something, except she was leaving and Kai was staying and, in the end, this was just two friends saying goodbye.
"Have fun," said Kai. "Don't spend too much time with your books."
Jinora pushed away from him, punching his shoulder good-naturedly. "Please, you know me better than that," she said, and then she was in the car, and they were pulling away from her house, and Kai was a lone figure in a green t-shirt standing on the sidewalk, one hand raised in farewell.
"Ready?" Her father asked, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.
Jinora looked down at her lap and cracked open the notebook Kai had given her, smoothing out the first blank page, the blue lines that ran neatly across it to who knew where, but here was to hoping it would lead her someplace good. She took out a pen. Held it, poised.
"Ready."
o.O.o
"I'm home," announced Kai, kicking off his shoes at the front door. He followed the sound of running water to the kitchen, where his mother stood, washing the dishes. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, her head outlined by the sunlight streaming through the window.
Kai made a beeline for the refrigerator, cracking it open and rummaging for a snack. He settled on a cheese stick, biting it in half and chewing.
"Did you say goodbye to Jinora?"
"Yes."
"And?" prodded his mother, raising an eyebrow. "Did she like her present?"
"Yes," mumbled Kai, ducking his head to hide his blush, even though a part of him knew that it was no use. His mom had walked in on him slaving away over the drawing—that had said all she needed to know.
He shoved the rest of the cheese stick into his mouth, throwing his trash away before sliding smoothly into place beside his mother, easing the plate from her grip. "Hey, I got this."
She shot him a look but obliged, retreating to the chair sitting by their kitchen table. "I'm old, Kai, not invalid."
"I know," Kai said, reaching for the soap-soaked sponge.
It hadn't always been like this. When the Fongs had first adopted him, Kai had been a surly eight-year-old. The Fongs had been in their mid-fifties, a distance that had seemed, in Kai's mind, too far for them to understand much of anything about him. He hadn't been interested in putting down roots, anyways—how could he, when running and abandonment seemed to live in his blood, when his own parents hadn't taken the time to teach him what the word "stay," meant? He'd followed this train of thought up until he was eleven, when he'd made it as far as the bus stop after packing his bags and deciding to run away.
After some family counseling sessions, the tension had diffused, somewhat, but Kai had still gone through his teenage years as a polite stranger who floated through the door and only responded when directly addressed. It had taken Mr. Fong's heart attack during Kai's sophomore year to snap things into perspective, to make Kai realize that he was truly anchored to this place and these people.
Maybe that was why he hadn't minded altering his plans after high school graduation to include staying home and taking classes at the community college. Mr. Fong had made a good recovery, but there always hovered the invisible risk of another time, and maybe it was paranoid, but whenever Kai imagined Mrs. Fong, he could only see her hands, stiff and strained from the arthritis. So he would stay. Find a job. Keep learning. And maybe, along the way, he could repay all the time he'd spent ignoring his foster parents, all the uneasy years of silence when conversation had sat just an arms-length away, if only he'd been willing to reach out.
From her seat, his mother winced, rubbing her wrist with her thumb. "Kai, could you get me—"
"Your pills?" finished Kai without missing a beat, crossing the room in three quick strides and pulling the canister down from the cabinet, sliding it across the tiled table. He poured her a glass of water, too.
His mother accepted the two items, the corner of her mouth twisting upward in a rueful smile as she swallowed a gulp of water and downed the pill. "Sorry, Kai," she said, and Kai had a feeling that she was apologizing for something else, something that had less to do with her and her aching joints and more to do with him, standing in front of her in the light of their little kitchen.
But he was young, and it was summer, and he could worry about everything else later. "It's fine, Mom," he said, bending down to kiss her cheek. "That's what I'm here for."
o.O.o
A low groan sounded from Jinora's right, prompting her to look up from her textbook. Next to her sat Nima, her dark tresses spreading over the table as she rested her forehead on the sheet of paper in front of her, grumbling to herself.
Meghana reached over, bangles clanking against each other softly as she tapped Nima's head. "Not so loud, Nima."
Nima rolled her head to the side, fixing one baleful eye on the rest of their group. "This freshman writing seminar is going to kill me." She cast a hopeful glance toward Jinora.
Without dragging her attention from the page, Jinora shook her head. "I'll help you edit, but only once you actually get something written down."
Meghana laughed softly while Nima harrumphed in frustration, picking up the paper and staring at it more closely. Meanwhile, Haku snorted, halfway through scrawling something in his notebook.
Jinora stopped reading, momentarily sneaking a peek at her friends. Though she'd known that with so many people, she was bound to find someone, she'd still been nervous her first day and hadn't expected to fall into a group so quickly. But Nima, her roommate, had taken to her almost immediately, tirelessly dragging her around the first few days. Jinora had met Meghana, with her assortment of bracelets and piercing green eyes, in the Beginning Fiction Workshop, and had ended up talking to Haku while waiting in line at the dining hall. Somehow, they had all ended up here, in the airy space of the library.
A loud buzz distracted her; Jinora tried to reach for her phone as surreptitiously as possible.
"Goodness, Jinora, we're in a library," teased Nima, even as she leaned over to sneak a peek at the screen. Her eyebrows shot up as she read the name. "Oh, I see."
"Is it that guy from back home?" asked Haku. He flinched when Jinora kicked his shin under the table. "What?"
"How do you—never mind," said Jinora, tucking her hair behind her ear and choosing to focus on formulating a response instead. "We're just friends," she clarified, fingers hovering over the keys.
"Friends who have texted nonstop since you left," said Nima, inspecting her nails. "You have to admit, that's dedication."
"That's what friends do."
Meanwhile, Meghana looked around the table, confused. "Wait, guy? Did I miss something?"
"So basically—ow, would you stop doing that?" Haku said frustratedly, running a hand through his spiked black hair and glaring across the table at Jinora.
"I never told you any of this, so why are you suddenly the authority?"
Nima took a sudden interest in the paper in front of her.
"Nima," Jinora said lowly, her voice edged with exasperation.
"Sorry!" said Nima, spreading her hands in a gesture of defeat, "but I thought it might be good to, you know, get a guy's opinion on this whole...thing."
"'Thing,'" repeated Jinora, skeptical.
"'Thing,'" cut in Meghana, "which you all are going to explain hopefully sometime soon…"
"Nima can do it, since Jinora will just kick me," muttered Haku, picking up his pencil and resuming his work.
Nima stretched, her dark eyes brightening with anticipation as they cut to Jinora. "Well, Jinora? Your life, your story."
Jinora thought of Kai. Imagined him standing in the aisle of a supermarket, turning over a can of peaches, his phone nestled in his back pocket. It felt strange, thinking of him as existing in a separate sphere when she wanted to pull him into this new world of hers, and so, eventually, she sighed. "Fine."
"Knew it," declared Nima, pushing her chair back and stretching. "We can talk about it over lunch, 'cause I'm starving."
Jinora and Meghana exchanged knowing looks, rolling their eyes in amusement as they gathered up their bags. Haku was less quick about getting up ("good grief, can you just let me finish this sentence?" "Survival of the fittest, Haku." "That doesn't make any sense." "Does too.") but they made it through the doors and into the sunshine eventually.
Jinora closed her eyes, briefly, turning her face toward the sky and listening to Nima's laugh trail into the air.
So far, so good.
o.O.o
The sound of heels clicking on linoleum made Kai look up. Under the austere lights of the auto repair shop, a woman approached. Her hair was cut in a neat bob, and even though she stuck out like a sore thumb with the golden chain of her purse sparkling over her shoulder, she seemed comfortable. The scent of grease didn't seem to bother her, at least.
Catching Kai's stare, the woman smiled. Her green eyes sent a jolt of familiarity down his spine, and he blushed furiously, fumbling to hand Wei the wrench he had requested earlier.
"Who's this?" her voice held an amused lilt.
"Leave him alone, Opal," Wing called from farther off, his head emerging from the underside of the car he was inspecting. "He's too young for you, plus you have a boyfriend."
Opal rolled her eyes. "Very funny, guys," she said dryly, sticking out her hand to Kai. "Hi, I'm Opal, younger sister of these two idiots."
Kai took her hand, studying her carefully. He could detect the same playful glint in her eyes as in those of the twins, now. "I'm Kai."
"So what's up?" asked Wei, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. "Mom said you'd be coming in later."
"Well, I'm here now," said Opal, shrugging. "I decided I'd get an earlier flight and surprise you all."
"Missed us that much, huh?" teased Wing, sauntering over and wrapping an arm around Opal's shoulders. "How's the city compare to the sand and the sun?"
Opal rolled her eyes, shoving Wing's chest. "I wasn't on vacation, you know."
"Yeah, we know," chorused the two brothers. They exchanged glances over Opal's head before Wei began, "What was it you told Mom? 'Finding myself…inward journey…mentally recharging'?"
"And she ate it all up," finished Wing with a long-suffering sigh.
"Buzz off," sniffed Opal, ducking out of her brothers' grips.
"Just kidding, sis. We missed you, honest."
Kai had moved away during the exchange, feeling out of place. As he reattached a tire, he heard Opal observe, "He's quiet."
"Not usually."
"How long has he been working here?"
"Four months. He's a good kid. Helpful, sharp."
"When he isn't pining," added Wing.
"Hey, I don't pine," interjected Kai. He'd meant to leave the Beifongs to their family reunion, but it was disorienting to hear himself discussed just four feet away. When Wing smirked at him, Kai realized that he had made the comment on purpose to draw Kai back into the conversation, and Kai felt momentarily grateful before embarrassment took over.
Opal raised an eyebrow. "You made a big mistake, telling my brothers about your love life."
"It's not…" Kai opened and closed his mouth, catching sight of his reflection in the shiny flank of the car beside him. The collar of his blue uniform was rumpled, one of the buttons undone, and it took a lot of effort not to imagine Jinora standing in Opal's place, her brown hair tucked behind one ear and a freshly-pressed skirt floating around her knees.
"Long distance?" Opal smiled at him knowingly.
Kai blinked. "What—uh, um, I mean, not exactly, but—how?"
Opal shrugged. "I went through the same. Don't worry. If it's meant to be, it'll work itself out."
"Right," said Kai, unsure of what else to say. His phone dinged loudly from its place on the nearby rack, and Kai lunged for it before remembering himself and picking it up with some semblance of composure.
Jinora: Two weeks! :)
He was grinning too widely to care about the knowing looks Wei and Wing exchanged.
o.O.o
Jinora saw him waiting at the corner of the street. He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, head tilted toward the gray sky, and the Christmas lights coiled around the stop sign next to him glowed softly. Jinora patted her hair down and adjusted her scarf before she frowned, stopping herself. This was Kai.
She checked her purse for her notebook, nodding contentedly when she saw it nestled amidst an assortment of gel pens and a tube of chapstick. She'd written some notes for herself on the plane ride home: stories to tell, questions to ask in case the conversation got stilted, but hopefully she wouldn't need them.
Satisfied, Jinora picked up her pace.
"Hi."
Kai turned around so fast he nearly clipped her with his elbow, and Jinora had to take a slight step back. There was a pause—like a snowflake suspended in midair—before the awkwardness melted and Kai reached out, enveloping Jinora in a hug.
"You're late," he said, and Jinora tried not to think too much about the low rumble she felt against her ear.
"Only by a little. How long were you waiting?"
"Not that long," Kai reassured, stepping back, before a sharp "ow!" from Jinora stopped him.
"Shoot, Jin, I'm sorry—"
"I'm fine," Jinora laughed, reaching up to untangle her hair from where it had become caught in the teeth of his zipper. Kai's fingers slid over hers as he tried to help her, but Jinora swatted him away, biting her lip and making short work of it on her own.
"Well, that's one way to break the ice," said Kai once Jinora had finished. He offered his arm as they started down the street. "So tell me, how are the vegetarian options at school?"
"Awful," laughed Jinora. "A truly good tofu burger is hard to come by."
"Thank god for Toza's, then," grinned Kai as he pushed open the door, the bell tinkling softly overhead.
Toza's. Jinora looked around the quaint restaurant, nostalgia hitting her alongside the scent of toasted sesame buns. Kai made his way toward the spot they'd staked out sophomore year, a marbled black table only a few paces from the counter.
Toza looked up as they approached, his mouth curling upwards slightly.
"Grilled Portobello for Kai, Lemon Basil Tofu for Jinora?" he guessed, stroking the grizzled hair on his chin.
"Yes, please," beamed Jinora as she climbed onto the chair, slinging her purse over the back of the seat.
"And two blueberry milkshakes," added Kai. He shrugged out of his jacket, looking at Jinora in the process. "All right, you start."
"Okay, well," said Jinora, folding her hands on the table and leaning forward on her forearms, "first, there's my roommate…"
By the time their food came, she'd managed to cover the first week. Kai kept his eyes on her as he bit into his burger, chewing and nodding as she launched into a story about Nima's first (and last) attempt to get Jinora to join her morning jog.
And then Jinora petered off, because: "What about you?"
"I've been taking classes at the community college," said Kai, dragging a French fry through his ketchup. "Going back through my list of schools for when I transfer."
"Will you stay in-state?"
"Probably. Maybe not, though. It depends."
"How's your dad?"
"He's good," smiled Kai. His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. "Oh, I forgot to tell you—I got a job."
"Mmph," Jinora mumbled through a mouthful of lettuce, smiling at him to encourage him to continue.
"It's at a mechanic shop."
"That explains the grease on your face," teased Jinora.
Kai froze. "Grease?"
"Yeah," said Jinora, tilting her head. "I wasn't really sure what it was earlier so I didn't say anything. It's not super noticeable, just a small streak near your jaw—"
Kai flushed red and rubbed the side of his face furiously, and even though Jinora had meant her comment to be playful, she caught the flicker of something else cross Kai's face, more than simple embarrassment.
Vulnerable. The word popped into Jinora's head. He looks vulnerable.
Her stomach twisted slightly, because she'd caused that look, inadvertently.
"Is it gone?" ventured Kai.
Jinora swallowed. "No."
Kai's hand dropped to the table, playing with the napkin. "Oh well," he laughed shakily, shoulders rising and falling as he shrugged, his eyes darting to the side. "I'll just wash it off later, I guess."
Jinora bit her lip. Now that she had pointed out the grease stain on Kai's face, her attention kept returning to it. It was nothing more than a faint shadow on his dusky skin, but in Jinora's mind, it seemed to stand out in stark relief—a reminder of her blunder, a mark on what had otherwise been a perfect afternoon.
Hurriedly, Jinora jerked her attention to the saltshaker instead, knowing her gaze would only make Kai more self-conscious. The blueberry milkshake she'd gulped down earlier sat heavily in her stomach. The air between them felt clogged, and Jinora's hands inched behind her, toward her purse—I have a notebook, I just need to redirect the conversation—
The table shook a little as Kai pushed away from it, leaning back in his chair. "So. You, um, ready to go?"
"Yes," said Jinora, hand closing around her wallet. Kai opened his mouth as if to say something but reconsidered, watching her count out her bills and place them neatly on the table. After a beat, he did the same.
They waved at Toza before leaving. At the door, an awkward shuffle ensued when they both tried to squeeze through at the same time; Kai stepped back, motioning, "After you."
Jinora waited for him on the curb. The temperature had dropped; she pulled her jacket tighter, burying her nose in her scarf. Kai slid into view at the corner of her eye, his face directed toward the street.
"It was nice seeing you," Jinora blurted into the silence, wincing at how formal it sounded.
"Yeah," said Kai, turning toward her. His green eyes looked…cautious. Guarded, even, but they softened slightly when they met hers.
"I'm in town for the whole two weeks," started Jinora. "So if you get time," off of work, she wanted to say, but that would take them back to the awkward territory from before, "just…let me know."
"I will," nodded Kai.
They stood there for a moment longer before Kai asked, "Where are you parked?"
"Over there," Jinora said, tilting her head toward the way from which she'd come, watching as Kai's face fell.
"I'm down this way," he said, jerking his thumb in the opposite direction.
Ask him to walk with you, Jinora thought suddenly, fiercely. But the more logical part of her asked, and then what?, reminded her of the awkward trek that was sure to follow. Better to part ways now and pick things up some other time, when her words didn't sit so thickly on her tongue.
"Bye, then," she said, more brightly than she felt.
"Bye, Jinora."
He turned and started walking, shoelace trailing behind him, and Jinora felt a laugh bubble up in her chest at the sight, because Kai never seemed to tie his shoes properly.
Some things never change.
And some things did.
o.O.o
Kai stared at his hand. The glow from his ceiling lamp peeked through the spaces between his fingers, and he watched the bones shift under his skin as he squeezed his hand into a fist.
He sat up, frowning. There was some grease under his fingernails; Kai tried to pick it out to no avail. Sighing, he pushed a hand through his hair, mind flashing to Jinora and her neatly trimmed fingernails, their healthy sheen under the diner's lights as she'd played with her straw.
He looked back at his hand. Rubbed it on the surface of his jeans, the fabric scraping against his calluses. Thought of Jinora's hands, again—their softness, their scent. (Vanilla, he guessed, or peaches. Those had been the fragrances he'd most associated with her, growing up.)
It was different, now. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something had changed, as if Jinora had floated just an arm's length away in the time she'd been gone, and Kai couldn't help thinking that if he reached for her, he'd only end up soiling things. Jinora was clean and smelled like vanilla and always had her eyes focused on some distant horizon, her mouth curved in that small, knowing smile, and Kai was rough at the edges and smelled like oil and stared down at opened car hoods. Suddenly, that difference seemed to matter. A lot.
It'd been four days since their lunch and—nothing. Jinora hadn't texted. The mechanic in Kai told him this was fixable, that one word from his end would get the engine started again.
The boy in Kai told him there was no point.
o.O.o
"All right, spill. What is it?"
"What?" Jinora looked up from her book, blinking.
"Oh, come on. You're reading Romeo and Juliet," Nima said, dropping her bag on the floor and nudging the pile of books by Jinora's desk with her foot. "It doesn't take a psychology major to see that you obviously have love on the brain."
Jinora set her book aside and sighed, drawing her knees up to her chin. "It's stupid."
"Isn't it always?" asked Nima, the mattress bouncing as she sat down. She undid her ponytail and started brushing it, looking at Jinora expectantly.
"I went home over winter break."
"And?"
"I met up with Kai."
Nima's brow furrowed. "Let me guess—he has a girlfriend now?"
"What? No!" blinked Jinora, before she frowned and admitted, "Actually…he might. He didn't mention anything, but…I don't know." The last part came out as a frustrated exhale. "We used to be able to talk about anything. But now it's just awkward texts like 'how are you doing?' and 'what's the weather like over there?' We didn't even have a fight. Just one minute everything was natural and the next minute it's…not."
"People change," Nima said simply, fingers deftly braiding her hair. "You're still friends."
Friends. Jinora thought of seventh grade, when she'd met Kai in the library and wondered: what is he running away from? Sophomore year when she'd brought him hot chocolate the morning after Mr. Fong was hospitalized. Early morning walks along the boardwalk, falling asleep on Kai's shoulder while he sketched, how he'd always bought her chocolate-filled croissants after chem tests. Friends. The word seemed like so much and, at the same time, so little.
"Hey, don't look so glum," said Nima, nudging Jinora's knee with her shoulder. "You shouldn't let something like this weigh you down. There's so much else to think about, anyways."
Jinora called up her plans for the future: visit a Tibetan monastery. Climb Mount Everest. Go skydiving. Learn another language. Nima was right—there was a whole life ahead of her, a world waiting to be explored.
She bundled together whatever remaining disappointment she had over her meeting with Kai, imagined attaching it to a balloon—a green one, her mind decided—and envisioned the ribbon curling around her hand.
Then she let go.
o.O.o
"Damn," muttered Kai as the dart nosedived, bouncing harmlessly off the blue balloon he'd been aiming for. Four years and he had yet to win at this particular game. The girl behind the booth beamed as Kai reached into his pocket, digging around for another dollar.
Behind him, he heard a loud whoop and a "Make way, make way, ladies and gentlemen!" As Kai drew his arm back to throw the first dart, something plush nudged his elbow.
He turned to find an enormous stuffed banana looming over him. Bolin emerged from behind it, grinning wildly.
"Check this out!" he exclaimed, waving the banana back and forth. Beside him, Opal pushed her sunglasses back up into her hair and shot Kai an apologetic look, but she was smiling widely, too.
"It only took him ten rounds," she teased.
"Hey!" pouted Bolin, green eyes darting around the area. "Where'd Wei and Wing go?"
"Snowcones," answered Kai. He rolled his shoulders, the cloth of his T-shirt wiping off his neck in the process, which had become sticky with sweat. It seemed to get hotter every summer, though Opal looked comfortable—elegant, even—in her white dress.
"Ooh, good idea," drooled Bolin, trying to find some money with one hand while clutching his prize with the other. Opal nudged him, taking the banana.
"Thanks," said Bolin, holding up a wrinkled bill. "Blue raspberry for you?"
"Yep," said Opal, kissing his cheek before he headed off. She watched him go before turning back to Kai. "Thanks for inviting us along. This was a good idea."
Kai grinned. "Yeah? I come here every year."
"I think I came once or twice, when I was a lot younger," Opal said, looking wistful. "Huan wanted to be a caricature artist for a while. He'd drag me along to the booth and watch the guy draw me."
"Do you get along with all of your brothers?"
"Most of the time," said Opal, shifting the banana so she could look at him better. "You're an only child, right?"
"Yeah."
"Do you ever get lonely?"
"I used to. Not so much anymore," said Kai, at the same time a voice chirped, "Kai!"
Down the boardwalk, he spotted Ikki waving frantically. Within seconds she was in front of him, Meelo and Rohan in tow. Rohan and Meelo both waved water guns, and Kai couldn't find it in himself to scold Rohan when Rohan squirted him; the cool spray was a welcome relief.
There was a notable absence from their party. Kai had known to expect it, of course. He and Jinora still kept in touch, though less frequently, and she'd texted him excitedly about the summer internship she'd secured. And maybe it was time, or distance, but thinking about her hurt less these days.
"—and it's so boring, like I already heard this same speech a hundred times when Jinora was my age, but my dad is worrying about nothing again. I mean, honestly, was junior year really that terrible? Kai?" chattered Ikki.
Kai blinked. "You're going to be a junior?" he said in mock surprise, reaching over to ruffle Ikki's hair. "No way."
Ikki made a face and stepped away from him, crossing her arms. "Jeez, why do you and Jinora always act like I'm twelve or something? I've been sixteen now for months!"
"Could have fooled me," teased Kai. "What about you, Meelo? Excited for high school?"
Ikki groaned. "Don't get him started—"
"Totally," said Meelo, eyes gleaming. "With my growth spurt, the girls aren't going to know what hit them! I'm coming back to school as a stud!"
"I'm thirsty," complained Rohan, then spluttered when Meelo squirted him in the face.
"C'mon, let's grab something to eat," said Ikki, ushering the two of them along. "See ya later, Kai!"
"Bye!"
As Ikki and her siblings disappeared among the multicolored booths and array of passerby, Opal voiced, "They grow up fast, don't they?"
"Yeah."
"Speaking of which, you're going to be a sophomore. Any thoughts on what you want to major in?"
"No idea," Kai said, picking up another dart and tossing it halfheartedly.
Opal fixed him with a look. "Do you really have no idea, or are you just worried about what people will think of your choice?"
Once again, the balloon didn't pop. Kai sighed and leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair. "I mean…I guess I've always thought being an architect would be nice. Leaving something behind, you know?"
When Opal didn't say anything, Kai's shoulders sagged. "It probably sounds stupid. I mean, what do I know—"
"No," Opal said, shaking her head slightly, "that's good. That's a start." She bit her lip, deliberating, before a twinkle crept into her green eyes and she said, "You know my family owns an architecture firm, right?"
Kai didn't dare hope.
"Maybe I could take you there some time. So you can see what it's like."
"Really?"
"Really."
In the distance, they heard a chorus of voices—Wei, Wing, and Bolin, arms loaded with cotton candy and snowcones. Kai watched them approach. Nothing was solid yet, but he had a sketch of his future and what it could be. And maybe that was enough for now.
o.O.o
"Wait, seriously?"
Jinora nodded.
"And just when I thought I had you pegged," sighed Haku. "You had 'English major' written all over you—ow!" Nima flicked the side of his head, sending him a scathing glare.
Jinora fought back a smile. "Just because I'm switching majors doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to burn all my books and refuse to read, Haku."
"Yeah, well. First you cut your hair and now you wanna major in anthropology," said Haku, gesturing aimlessly with one hand. "What's next?"
Jinora ran her fingers through the ends of her bob, reveling in how light she felt. "That's the beauty of it, I guess. We'll see."
o.O.o
The winter wind howled outside Kai's window, rattling the frame. Unable to read any further, Kai capped his highlighter and closed his eyes. For a moment, he just let himself think. Imagined someplace warm, with sundrenched streets and golden clock towers and the chatter of passerby filling the streets below. And then he opened his eyes and put that image away, refocusing on the pages of reading he still had to get through.
Later that night, he dreamed of Jinora, starry-eyed and leaning out a window, somewhere between falling toward the ground and floating toward the stars. She was saying something, calling to someone, but the words were muddy.
He turned over on his side. Tucked her away, too.
In the morning, he woke up to find a crisp white envelope sitting on his desk. Smiling, he broke the seal; like clockwork, the Gyatso family's Christmas card arrived three days before Christmas every year. His smile widened as he caught a glimpse of the picture—it seemed like they'd managed to wrangle Jinora back home for a family photo and into a holiday sweater, no less. The whole family had been outfitted, this time in a red and white number that said, "Home sweet home," the "ho's" embellished with gold stitching. Old habits died hard, he supposed.
The touch of familiarity disappeared, however, as he opened the card.
There was nothing wrong with the message, which was full of Pema's characteristic tenderness and well wishes from the whole family: Best of luck with the transfer process! We know you'll do great. But it was missing Jinora's tidy, curling script. Kai had always teased her about it in the past ("we see each other every day; you don't have to write me an end-of-the-year essay") but she'd insisted on it anyways, recounting the most memorable moments they'd shared of that year. It was always fun to compare notes afterwards; Kai would meet her at the bookstore after getting his Christmas card to set the record straight ("it definitely did not happen like that") and bring up an event that Jinora had forgot to mention.
They couldn't exactly do that anymore.
Kai shoved the card in his drawer and went to make breakfast.
o.O.o
Jinora slowed down as she approached the driveway, her stomach doing a slight flip as she saw the truck parked by the curb. She paused, fiddling with her keys. Maybe she could swing around the block and come back later. No one would be the wiser.
Quickly, she smothered that thought. There was nothing—no one—to be afraid of. And Ikki, Meelo, and Rohan would get impatient waiting for their ice cream, anyways. Decided, Jinora got out of her car.
She had just opened the trunk when she heard the front door open. A few seconds later, Kai stood in the path, keys jangling. His whistling stopped, replaced by a surprised, "Hey."
"Hi," Jinora said, and it felt wrong, that she could feel so awkward in front of her house. Things had been fine with a phone screen between them, but now, with Kai right there, the gulf seemed wider. The year they'd been apart stretched into the silence.
"Your dad needed help with the pipes," Kai explained. "Just a quick fix; nothing major."
"Oh," said Jinora, the plastic bag around her arm rustling as she shifted. Her eyes flitted over to Kai's car. "You finally got the paint fixed." There'd been a strip of exposed metal just under the left headlight for as long as Jinora could remember.
"Oh, yeah. Opal said that if I was taking care of other people's cars, the least I could do was take care of my own."
"Opal?"
"Her older brothers are my bosses."
"Is she nice?" asked Jinora, biting her tongue to refrain from asking a different question.
"Yeah!" said Kai—breezily, easily. His voice faded a little as he added, "You—you'd like her." He sounded almost wistful when he said it, and Jinora's heart clenched like a fist. There was her answer, then. Kai had a girlfriend, and she was nice, and Jinora was never going to meet her, because she didn't belong in that part of his life anymore. What else had she missed?
"Well," blinked Kai, his green eyes refocusing, and it was stupid how much it hurt when he looked at her. "I'm gonna go now."
"Bye," Jinora said, managing a smile.
Kai smiled back, nodding his head once in acknowledgement, and then walked down the lawn, toward his car. The grass crunched under his feet, sounding loud and final. Without thinking, Jinora whirled around and blurted, "I changed my major."
Kai paused, in the process of opening the driver's side door, his brow furrowing. "But I thought you loved English."
"I do," said Jinora. "But I fell in love with anthropology, too." She looked at him hard, willing him to see that he wasn't the only one who could change, that she was moving forward, too. She didn't know where this need to prove herself stemmed from, but as Kai studied her and turned to go, offering only a "Good for you," Jinora felt the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, anything to dispel the polite distance between them.
"Is that it?" her voice sounded small, but it still carried over the yard.
Kai froze, and Jinora noticed what she hadn't before—a tension in his shoulders that dissipated now as he let them drop. "What are you talking about, Jinora?"
"I just—we're friends, aren't we?" wondered Jinora, her throat feeling suddenly thick.
"Yes."
"So why doesn't it feel like it?"
Kai looked taken aback. "I—you've just been away for a while, Jinora. Things will go back to normal."
"Not if we never see each other."
Kai shot her a look. "I'm not avoiding you, if that's what you're saying."
"I'm…" She didn't know what she was saying. "Do you want to know something funny?"
"What?"
"I don't know what normal means for us, anymore," she admitted.
Kai pushed a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky. "Neither do I."
"I miss you." I miss us.
Kai looked at her sharply, and Jinora found herself taken aback by the words that came next: "I'm transferring to KU this fall."
"That's three hours away."
"Yeah."
"But your mom and dad…"
"We talked about it," Kai said, leaning against his car and shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked so serious in the fading light, nothing like the goofy boy with the crooked smile she'd kept tucked in the back of her mind. It was funny, how the slightest differences between memory and reality could be so jarring.
"You never told me." Don't get upset. You don't have a right to be upset.
Kai shrugged. "It wasn't important."
"Of course it was important!" burst Jinora, unable to prevent her voice from rising. "This—when did we start keeping things like this from each other? How are we supposed to stay connected if you can't even tell me these things?"
Kai's jaw clenched. "What's the point?"
Jinora recoiled. "What do you mean what's the point?"
"Me telling you these things—about my decisions, about my day—it doesn't change anything, Jinora. You're still miles away. I can't put my life on pause for you—"
"I never asked you to—"
"But it feels like it, sometimes," said Kai, his voice low. "You left, Jinora. We're at different places in our lives now—"
"So, what? You just decided the best solution would be to shut me out?" demanded Jinora, fingernails digging into her palm.
"I don't know, okay?" fired back Kai. "Isn't that how it always is? You're the one who always has a plan, and I'm just muddling my way through things. What do you even need me around for?"
"You're my friend."
"You've got lots of friends, Jinora," Kai said. "You've got all these options. You're smart and successful and you're going to do all these amazing things, and I'm just the boy back home—" he cut himself off abruptly, glaring at the ground.
Meanwhile, Jinora stiffened. Because he couldn't—didn't—mean what she thought he did. It was hard to tell when she couldn't see his eyes, and that got to her the most: the fact that Kai wouldn't even look at her.
Her voice wobbled a little when she spoke. "Is that really what you think?"
"It's what everyone who knows you will think."
"And what about what I think?" she whispered, begging him silently with her eyes to look at me, look at me and you'll understand.
Kai did. His eyes had snapped up at her words, and she heard his sharp intake of breath as he straightened and took a step forward, asking, falteringly, "What do you think, Jinora?"
Stupid, stupid. Both of them. How long had they hid this from each other? And still she couldn't say it, but Kai understood her anyways.
She was half-laughing, half-crying, now. "You're an idiot."
"I know." Kai's voice cracked. "I know. You—you've always been the smart one."
"Kai," Jinora said fiercely, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, "shut up."
"I'm sorry." He was in front of her now, trying to rub her tears away. Despite their calluses, his hands were gentle.
"I wish you wouldn't do that."
"What, apologize?" he asked, mouth quirking.
"Put yourself down," clarified Jinora, reaching up to rub the corner of her eyes. "You think you aren't good enough, but you are, you're just right—"
"All right, Jin. I get it." And then he kissed her.
It was slow, and soft, and Jinora found herself surprised for the second time that night. She'd expected it to be dizzying, but Kai's kiss had a different effect, like something in her chest had shifted into its proper place. Like she'd grown roots. Jinora felt tethered to the moment and to Kai and—
"Wait," she gasped, pulling back a little, "your girlfriend—"
Kai blinked. His hands remained cupping her face. "Girlfriend?"
Jinora fumbled for a name. She couldn't remember anything at the moment, just the sensation of Kai's mouth on hers, but this was important—"Opal!"
Kai laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the whole thing. "Opal's not my girlfriend."
"In that case…" She brought her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. She could feel Kai smile against her forehead, and his fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair. When Jinora felt ready, she tilted her head up toward him again, and then they were kissing and he was warm and solid and—
"Oh!" Jinora jerked back.
"I don't have a boyfriend, either," Kai quipped immediately, his eyes twinkling.
Jinora rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. "It's not that, it's…" she disentangled her arms from around him, holding up the plastic bag that had remained hooked on her arm. "…the ice cream…"
"Rocky Road?" guessed Kai.
"Yep."
He reached for the bag, prying open the lid, and the two of them stared down at the goopy, molten mess.
Jinora sighed at the same time Kai said, "Ikki's going to kill you."
She fixed him with a look. "Just me?"
"You were the one assigned to a Rocky Road run," teased Kai.
"But who's the one who distracted me, hm?"
"You were just telling me how good I am, but now I'm a distraction—"
"Maybe you're good at being distracting—mmf."
"Jinora?" Kai murmured after a while, forehead resting against hers.
"Yeah?"
"Welcome home."
o.O.o
"Coming through!"
"Whoa there," said Kai, reaching a hand out to steady Jinora as she dumped a box in the back of his truck.
Jinora rolled her eyes. "You helped send me off. It's only fair that I get to help you."
"But you're making me look bad in front of my friends," teased Kai, directing a glance over his shoulder to where Wei and Wing were talking to his father. His mother stood behind them, a hand placed on his father's shoulder, listening as Bolin gesticulated wildly while recounting some story.
"They aren't even looking."
"Maybe they want to give us some privacy," Kai said, raising an eyebrow before stumbling back as Jinora shoved him. "Hey!"
"Shut up," said Jinora, pursing her lips, the slightest blush covering her face.
"Make me," countered Kai, dancing out of the way before she could swat at his shoulder. He glanced over his truck before turning to the group congregated on his porch: "That's the last of it, guys. I'm going to be heading out, now."
"Go get 'em, kid," said Wei, meeting Kai in the middle of the pathway to shake his hand. "We're gonna miss you at the shop."
"Agreed," nodded Wing, clapping him on the shoulder.
Bolin skipped over any formalities, going straight for a bear hug. "Oh, I'm so proud!"
"Thanks, Bolin," Kai mumbled into his shoulder, extracting himself gently after it dragged on for too long. He gave Opal a one-armed hug next, since Bolin was still partially attached to his side.
"Thanks for everything."
"No problem. If you're back in town over the summer, maybe an internship's in the cards," she said, winking.
"I hope," grinned Kai.
Then he took the last few steps up to the porch. His mother floated into his arms; she seemed so small and frail, and Kai couldn't help feeling guilty for leaving.
As if sensing this, Mrs. Fong pinched his side, craning her neck back to look up at him. "Don't you dare worry about your father and me," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You just focus on studying hard and eating well. And get lots of sleep, all right?"
"Mom," Kai laughed helplessly, "that's a tall order."
"Hmph," she sniffed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You can do it. You're my son."
"All right. But you have to call me if anything comes up. I'll make the trip down, rain or shine."
"Not in that beat up old car of yours, you won't."
"Mom!" protested Kai, "I just had the paint done."
She smiled, squeezing him tighter and nodding toward the side. "Say goodbye to your father, too."
Kai kissed her on the cheek before turning to where his father sat in the white wicker rocking chair. Solemnly, his father regarded him before beckoning him closer. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly but strong. "We're very proud of you, Kai."
It was so surreal, standing here. Nine years ago, Kai had wanted to take off into the sunset and never look back. And now he was finally leaving, but this time he had a home to return to.
"I know," he swallowed.
He clasped his father's hand, squeezing, before his father scooted forward from the chair, grimacing ("these creaky knees") and gathered him in a hug. They stayed like that for a while until his father pulled back, saying, "You should go. Beat the traffic."
"All right."
Kai bounded off the porch, keys swinging from his finger. He slid into the driver's seat, rolling down the window and looking for the one person he hadn't yet said goodbye to.
Jinora had hung back during his other farewells, but she filled the window frame now, resting her arms on the sill.
"Hey," Kai said simply.
"Hey," she returned, tilting her head.
"Thanks for coming to see me off."
"Wouldn't miss it," grinned Jinora. "See you winter break?"
"See you winter break," agreed Kai, leaning up to kiss her.
They broke apart once Wei and Wing started hooting, and Kai chuckled at Jinora's frustrated puff of hot air as she pulled back. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear—it was getting long again—and said, "I have something for you."
Kai's fingers tapped against the top of the steering wheel. "Really?"
"Really," she said, producing a slim box from behind her back. Kai took it, opening it slowly. There, nestled amidst the velvet bedding, sat a ballpoint pen, its marbled surface gleaming in the sunlight.
"For when you want to jot down something permanent," said Jinora, biting her lip.
"In that case…" Kai reached for her hand, tongue sticking out as he wrote something on her palm before curling her fingers around it. "Don't look until I'm gone," he instructed, before rolling up his window and starting the car.
As he pulled away, he heard Jinora laugh.